Amy's Journey with...

Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) ~ Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) ~ Focal Impaired Awareness (Complex Partial) Seizures ~ Fibromyalgia ~ Chronic Myofascial Pain (CMP) ~ Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) ~ TMJ Dysfunction ~ Bipolar Disorder Type I Rapid Cycling ~ Migraines ~ Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease (GERD) ~ Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) ~ Keratosis Pilaris (KP) ~ Complex-Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) ~ Panic Disorder ~ Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) ~ Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) ~ Nonsuicidal Self-Injury (Self-Harm) ~ Piezogenic Pedal Papules ~ Hashimoto's Thyroiditis ~ Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) ~ Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) ~ Specific Phobias ~ Chronic Headaches

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Flare (again)

I thought about trying to say something really poetic about the high level of pain I'm in today.  The best I could come up with sucked.  Pain makes it hard to think.  It was "If pain was a color, I am that color."  Yeah, I know, not exactly my usual caliber, is it?  Actually I don't remember if I've ever posted poetry on any public blog.  I will have to share soon.  I will share a doodle from awhile back with you.  That was taken when it wasn't incredibly painful to write.  Since no poetic ideas are flowing currently I am going to steer away from poetry and into the world of...physical therapy!  Woot!

I got up this morning to go to physical therapy.  I usually have PT on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  When I get to the hospital, I get my walker out of the backseat to go inside the hospital out-patient entrance near the PT department.  Often, DH helps me get my walker out, because it is a bit bulky.  While it is bulky it is awesome.  It's more than awesome, it's snazzy.  But, I digress...  I get the walker out and make my way inside and down the hall.  It is a straight hallway from the entrance that goes straight to where I need to go.  The PT department is at the end of the hall, it dead-ends there.

I very, very slowly made it toward my destination.  By the time I was 1/3 down the hall I was supporting as much weight as I could onto the walker because of the pain in my legs.  The hall seemed to be a tunnel, and the PT department was the light at the end of the tunnel.  I finally made it through the open doors of the goal.  I had only fifteen feet more to walk to a chair so I could sit.  I made it to the chair and sat down as fast as I could without causing anymore pain.  My pace was a little slower than a turtle walks, but that was my best, and I can only do my best.

When my awesome physical therapist walked in she immediately looked at my face and pointed to the patient room she does the myofacial tender point indirect releases and light massage in, instead of asking me if I want to go to the patient room or the gym, like usual.  She worked on my neck, my piriformis muscle, my shoulders and my legs.  After than my pain level had dropped from an 8.5 to an 9 out of 10.  Any reduction in pain is appreciated.  I had to use my walker to sit and wait on the other patients so that I could ask the receptionist to use the phone and call DH to wait at the door.  After starting my way down the hallway that had somehow lengthened since last time, I had to stop and use the seat on my walker twice.  I don't know why that didn't occur to me on the way down.  I would have collapsed with weakness and pain if I didn't have that walker seat.  Thankfully, I did!  I somehow made it to the car and from the car to the front door, and from the front door I made it the two steps I needed to take to gently sit on the couch.  By this time my pain was back to a 9 out of 10.

My pain at this moment is an 8, and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to make it through the day without losing my mind (again).  I think having chronic pain makes you become a stronger person, and you don't get a chance to choose to have it either.  It's not like some people choose to join the Army to become a better person/soldier.  Or they choose to enter the priesthood to become a better person in their God's eyes.  I however, didn't choose to live in chronic pain.  I didn't choose to be disabled.  I do choose to be the best person I can be.  I try to remember that when I start feeling sorry for myself.  I may be under thirty and on a walker, but I can still live a full life, just not in the same way others do.  I am still a spiritual person, an ethical person, a person who likes corny jokes, and animal lover, a procrastinator, a writer, and a bookworm, whether I am disabled or not.  I'm still me.  That's what I have to remember no matter how much pain I'm in and what I want people to always remember about disabled people, or anyone different, whether it's a religious difference or a sexual orientation difference, people are still people on the inside.  I'm rambling.

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